Inner Workings
by AmazingRuin
Summary: Instant. Regret. Then rising panic. They say actions speak louder than words but somehow I think that view is a bit skewed. I'm still trying to figure out what got into my brain and gave me the idea to come here. Granted, I should be used to making bad decisions by now.


"I love you, Jack."

Instant. Regret. Then rising panic. They say actions have more weight than words, but somehow I think that view is a bit skewed.

I didn't realize that I had my head down and my eyes clenched shut until I heard him breathe out and I looked up at him, my own breath escaping me.

His small mouth is gaping open, and I can hear quick pants of breath. His eyes are wide, glimmering with surprise and now my own heart is beating in my throat. How does he do that to me?

Streams of sunlight fall through the thick walls of trees, casting a glow around him. At least that's what I think I'm seeing. Or there's a fog in my eyes. Neither of us dares to move as we each continue to stare, the autumn leaves drifting in slow motion around us and I swear I can see the twinkle of snowflakes.

Sometimes it's funny how Fate works. When you don't know where you fit in a world that has expectations that you'll never meet and a father's shoes that you'll never fill; You crumble under the pressure, and Fate decides to take pity on you and send you someone that understands you better than yourself.

Toothless came into my world and rearranged everything. He tore through my life with fire and shook it up, forcing me to take action when I was afraid to. He was ferocious, unwavering, and wild; a much needed change in my pathetic life.

And so much different from Jack.

The Boy wandered quietly into my life, treading softly with humility and tenderness. Yet still, he's... familiar, somehow. He brings comfort and tranquility amongst the insanity of being surrounded by Vikings. Maybe that's why I couldn't tell you what life was Before Jack even if I tried. Of course there are memories of my father, of meeting Toothless, of my mother coming back into my life. Moments of my life that I'll always hold dear. Yet somehow, Meeting Jack has blurred everything around me and now I see nothing but him.

He was—is—the most strange and beautiful thing I've ever seen. Strange because I grew up seeing the strongest men, the kind that carry axes and logs, men that straddle dragons and find missing limbs to be a display of character.

His lithe body is such a contrast to what I'm used to seeing. He has thin limbs like me, but much leaner and not quite so lanky like mine. He looks younger than me by a few years and his body looks as though it could be split in two on a whim. The physical strength doesn't matter though; I can see that he's spent years—hundreds of them—perfecting his craft. And his sad smile shows that he spent those same years battling unrelenting loneliness.

And his beauty.

It isn't just in his sparkling silver hair, or his icy blue eyes that glisten with mischief, and sometimes, sorrow. It isn't just in his sparkling white teeth, fitting inside his wide goofy smile, or the curve of his jaw. It isn't even in that smug, playful smirk that makes my throat go dry.

It's all of those things, and in the way that he shrugs and grins when he looks away. It's in the wave of his hand when he conjures a flurry of snow, and the way he tells stories as his eyes wander off, deep in thought. It's in his (very few) moments of embarrassment as he scratches the back of his neck while he scans the floor, running his hands through his hair—that same hair that I've dreamed of touching for so long. It's in the furrow of his brows when he concentrates as he makes crystalline sculptures that amaze the children of my village.

So what am I doing? Me, this simple, mortal boy, asking for love from The Embodiment of Winter Wonderland. Gods, I must be an idiot. He doesn't have time for this. I'm sure he's got other places to be, or something better to do. So why is he frozen in place, staring at me?

Fate stepped in for the second time in my life nearly two years ago when I saw him for the first time. I was training with Toothless alone in our usual clearing, trying to run from the responsibilities thrust on me after the death of my father. "A chief doesn't have time to grieve," Gobber told me, with tears in his eyes. "You must take hold of your destiny and be the driving force for Berk. A chief protects his own."

It didn't take long for Toothless to begin consoling me in that moment. With Gobber's words fresh in my mind, I basked in the comfort from Toothless, wrapping my arms around the night fury's great big head as his wings enveloped my body in protection, his soft purrs rumbling all around me.

Then as I pulled away, something cold and wet landed on my nose and, looking around me, my face was struck with wonder.

I'm quite used to snow. I'm usually pretty tired of it actually, being the way it is on Berk. It's always a storm; this beastly force ripping through the air with no mercy. Maybe that's why this snow fall felt so different. It was quiet. So quiet that it was almost deafening, bringing a haze to the air. The snowflakes weren't hard, round, or painful. They were three dimensional, with a myriad of shapes and angles; they glittered with white and blue as they floated all around me. There was no flurry, no storm, no biting cold. The air was still and warm with late Spring, and the morning sunlight was still wafting through the trees, catching and reflecting off of the snowflakes as they drifted slowly down.

As captivating as my Wonderland was, laying my eyes on Jack Frost diminished all of my surroundings. His eyes pierced down at me with exuberance from his position some twenty feet above me and I still wonder now how my legs didn't give out underneath me.

We became close friends almost instantly. There was something, a spark maybe, that drew us together. All of my afternoons were soon filled with laughter and practical jokes(more from Jack than from me), my nights taken over by the hushed whispers of innocent curiosity as we learned about one another; but he never stayed. I yearned for him to lie with me, to feel the surprising heat that radiated from him when our hands would accidentally brush against each other as we walked side by side. But I never asked. I knew it was ridiculous. Still, that first day began my constant struggle to will my heart to slow, my breathing to relax, and my mind to numb. Even just _once_ would have been a welcome break to this love sickness I still bear.

And here I am, nearly two years after that moment, looking into those same eyes that penetrate deep to my core. I want so badly to look away but I am entranced. He holds me in place, my legs trembling, and I know I must look like a fool. My lips are quivering, my cheeks are flushed, and my hands are nervously picking at my clothes. I should probably turn around and walk away.

It feels like ages later, but I'm finally able to turn around. Yet I remain standing in the same place. Does he have more than just ice powers? I must be under a spell because I can't move. I feel as if he were physically holding me down, my only remaining foot planted firmly into the ground while my peg leg is beginning to slip—is that ice forming on the ground?

Now the panic is setting in again after getting lost in my thoughts, and I'm internally slapping myself. This was probably the dumbest idea(if you can call it an idea)that I've ever had. And I've done a _lot_ of really stupid things. I definitely need to start thinking things through more thoroughly.

I know that he's still standing several feet behind me, because I can hear him shuffling his feet. I need to think of something to say to soften the blow but I feel like my mouth is filled with cotton.

"Do you realize how stupid you are?"

I turn around and look at a seething Jack. His hood is now covering his white hair and he's gripping his staff like he's going to break it as he looks down at his feet. "I'm immortal, Hiccup." He looks up at me. "Do you have any idea what this means for me?" He's spitting out his words in malice, and he looks like he's shivering. Then he flies away.

I still haven't moved from my position that I was in when I first spoke those poisonous words, staring at the place where Jack stood, seconds ago. I probably should have expected this. I mean, he's right. He's not human. He's practically a God. And I'm... well, Hiccup. What was I thinking anyway? I really shouldn't be surprised. So that annoying tightness in my chest can just go away now.

How did I end up face first into the newly fallen snow on the ground? There's a small but numbing pain in my skull, and a fresh bout of snow on the back of my head as the now melting substance runs down my neck. Definitely a snowball. It wouldn't be the first time so I can't really complain. I wonder how long I can lie here before it seems like I'm knocked out. Maybe if I will it long enough, I'll seep into the ground and disappear.

After deciding I will freeze to death if I stay here-when did it suddenly get so cold? It's only Autumn-I slowly pick myself up off the ground and remind myself that I have important jobs to do. I don't have time for heartbreak. A chief protects his own. I need to do-

I turn around only to have Jack standing so close, I would have crashed right into him had I moved another inch. He's looking at me with an emotion in his eyes that I can't read. His brows are furrowed with surprise and confusion, but his eyes are glistening with something...is it hope? No, that must be the hope in my own head.

He lifts his hand and holds it hovering next to my face and for a moment I'm wondering if he's going to slap me. He stands there trembling, his breath now showing in the cold air that's dropped several degrees in temperature. I'm frozen, my breath caught in my throat, and I think that soon I'm going to fall into the snow again since my head is spinning and my vision is blurring but somehow I can make out the sight of him scanning each contour of my face, starting slowly from the top of my head until he's staring at my chapped lips.

He grabs my face with both hands, somewhat forcefully-there's a physical strength I didn't know existed-and though his hands are cold to the touch, I have a burning sensation that I know is going to linger when his hands are gone. "You are such an idiot, Hiccup." He speaks these words much more softly than the last ones, almost with loving condescension.

I blink slowly, breaking the connection of green and blue if only for a moment. "Well thank you for summing that up." My words are barely a squeak, a confirmation of my weak resolve. I roll my eyes but I'm still unable to turn my head away. It's so unlike him to call me names. I must have seriously pissed him off this time. So why is he holding my face the way he is?

When I look back at him, I realize his face is much closer, only centimeters from mine. I can feel his cool breath on my face, and I'm certain he's stealing my own breath straight out of my lungs.

"Oh man, this was a terrible idea... Just forget it okay?" My hands shoot up to grip his wrists that are still holding my head in place. "I-I don't know what came over me. You're right, I'm stu-"

I thought my mind was in a whirl before. Now I'm utterly blind as his lips are crushed against mine in a violent embrace; a strong contrast to the softness of his lips. Desperation is a feeling I've grown accustomed to in the last two years, and this moment is no different. His lips are my lifeline. I'm clinging onto him, my hands flattened against his chest; the chest that, despite donning a mass of snowflakes on his deep blue sweater, is radiating the same warmth spreading through my own body to the ends of my fingertips.

I don't know when my hands grazed the side of his face or reached behind his head, tangling in his soft hair—that same hair that I've yearned to touch, but I believe it was around the same time he placed his hand behind my neck, deepening the kiss as his other hand snakes around my waist. I'm thankful for his arms around me; not just for obvious reasons but because they hold me in place, stopping me from falling back into the now knee deep snow.

The pace of our embrace slows and the aggressive nature it once held has now changed. His lips move against mine gently with my face cupped in his hands while mine are tangled in the front of his sweater, my fingertips barely grazing the base of his neck. A gentle electricity. This isn't anything like I imagined each night for the last two years. I never knew that reality could be better than dreams.

We pull away, our lips peeling away softly and slowly, not daring to move our faces away more than a centimeter. I slowly open my eyes(When did I close them?) and find myself greeted by icy blues. His orbs are bearing straight through my bones with an emotion I might be able to read but won't dare to hope for-after all, this moment has to have a logical explanation. It couldn't be what I'm hoping for.

Then, his teeth are shining right in my face as his lips stretch into that beautiful, goofy grin. My hands drop to my sides but my face is still held in his hands. He looks at the top of my head as he runs his fingers through my hair, sending shivers down my spine.

"Took you long enough." He chuckles the words out quietly as he drops one hand and the other remains on the side of my neck, his eyes looking at me with adoration.

I know the shock must be heavily prevalent on my now flushed face with my shortness of breath and my hands wringing together as I look away. "I thought you said I was a stupid idiot." I don't think I looked at him as angrily as I intended, nor did my words give a drip of sarcasm as I had hoped to.

Jack sighs, still smiling slightly, as he floats a bit higher so he's above me. Then he crushes my face to his chest, his arms wrapping around my shoulders and my pulse is now deafening most sounds, save for Jack's voice.

"I'm sorry I said that. It's just...I've been waiting to hear you say that since before I met you. I've never told you this, but I've been around longer than you think. I watched you grow up, I saw everything. When you found Toothless, the change in your village, your father dying, your mother coming back. I've always been here." He places his fingers underneath my chin and lifts my face to look at him, "I've been waiting for you for your whole life."

"Why didn't I see you sooner?" My words are barely a whisper and I'm feeling dizzy again.

He removes his hand from under my chin and separates only enough to place both of his hands on my shoulders as he shines his eyes at me with a look that instills both fear and an unrelenting hope that I can't seem to dissipate. Hope because I may be starting to believe that the look in his eyes _is_ love; fear because the weight of the emotion welling up in my chest has just hit me like a brick wall; this boy is going to be the end of me.

"I stayed hidden really well. I imagine you remember hearing some kind of rustling in the trees behind you, or a sudden change in the temperature? I saw you always looking behind and around you." There's only the slightest of chuckles as he smiles a sweet smile that only deepens the red that's already on my cheeks. "I never showed myself because I didn't want to face the thought of you not being able to see me, which naturally I assumed you didn't, so I just watched you. That first moment that we met was just as exciting for me as it was for you."

"Then, why were you so mad that I told you?" I'm looking down at my hands now and I'd be surprised if he can even hear me speak.

He sighs and places his hand on the side of my face, forcing my face up to look at him. "Hiccup, your life is like a blink of an eye compared to eternity...eternity is my _life."_ He's no longer smiling and he shifts his eyes to the side as he continues, dropping his hand down to his side. "I waited so long to hear you say it that I guess I came to terms with the fact that I was going to spend as much time with you as I could—even if it meant never know how you felt..." He looks back at me, his eyes bearing a deep sadness that I've never seen from him before. "...or telling you how I feel."

My breath hitches in my throat and I suddenly understand: I have the ability to spend any moment that I can with him for the rest of my life. Then I'll grow old, and he'll be left alone.

Without my consent, my hand reaches out and grabs his hand to lace our fingers together, that warmth welling up in my chest again. I sound as pathetically hopeful as I'm sure my face looks, my voice cracking when I speak. "How _do_ you feel?" I just want to hear him say it out loud. I need to know that it's real.

I'm not looking at him now, but I hear him chuckle softly as he squeezes our interlocked hands gently before wrapping both his arms tightly around my waist, burying his face into my neck as I wrap my arms around his shoulders. His breath tickles my neck and sends a pleasant tremor through my body. I am beyond help now. He's finished me.

After a few moments, he brings his lips right up to my ear and I'm shivering from the close contact as he tightens our embrace, whispering, "Hiccup, you are my _life_." He pulls away and holds the side of my face with one of his hands, trailing his thumb across my flushed cheeks. "I've battled mystical creatures, I've seen things that are only in nightmares," he has a soft smile on his lips now, his eyes shining with adulation, "but _nothing_ scares me more than you do. You, with your crooked smile, and those _fucking_ freckles," he's now placed his other hand on the side of my face and his eyes soften along with his voice, "I. Love. You. More than anything I've loved in either life—immortal and mortal."

His eyes are brighter than I've ever seen them now and since I have nothing to say(my voice would betray me anyway) and I think my heart might burst, I lean in for a second kiss.

This kiss isn't frantic or violent like the last one; it's slow and deliberate, me savoring the taste of his lips on mine, and I might dare say he's doing the same. My hands slowly explore the his body, his shoulders-much broader than they look-his arms, his neck, his waist. There's a dizzying wonderment seeping into my skin at his beauty—a beauty I've realized I never knew until I could _feel_ it. There's a quiet revelation within our ministrations of each other; his hands are now exploring my own body.

And in the quiet of the late afternoon, the sunlight turning the white and blue of the snow to a sparkling gold, this softened embrace fulfills something—a promise. With his hands cupping my face, mine clenching to his sweater for dear life, we're exchanging an unspoken vow: we'll make the most of the time we have. However long it is, it's worth it.

And somewhere above the glow of love standing in the snow, above the clouds and the stars, unknown to the boy with the forest green eyes and the crooked, freckled smile, the Man on the Moon shone his light on the two lovers, connecting for a moment with the icy blue eyes of the Guardian of Fun as he pulls away to embrace with the brunette boy. Jack held Hiccup in his arms as he looked up at Manny, hearing him speak to the white-haired boy for the first time since becoming Jack Frost.

Manny would give the lovers eternity. He would need a new guardian soon anyway.


End file.
